Young Blood
by Veronica Violet
Summary: Fifteen years ago, Miles Matheson promised that he'd get his daughter, Charlie, out of her abusive mothers custody. Ten years ago she realized that he wasn't coming for her. Five years ago she ran away. Now she's twenty years old, cold and jaded. When she meets Sebastian Monroe, she starts to believe that she can leave the past in the past - until she meets his best friend.
1. Chapter 1

AN: This has been bashing around the inside of my skull for ages, so I finally decided to put it down on paper, even though honestly, I'm way too busy. This has changed from the original version a lot. But I finally think it's right.

Connor was trying to set her up. Again. But this time was different.

"Let me get this straight. You're trying to hook me up...with your dad?"

"... When you say it like that it sounds weird."

"It sounds weird no matter how you say it, Connor. Because it is weird."

"Look, he's not really my dad. I met him like a year ago -"

"He's still biologically related to you."

"And," Connor ignored her, "he's really hot."

Charlie stared at him. "I'm going to give you a moment to reflect on the wrongness of that statement."

"Oh, shut up Char. It's not an incest thing, it's an I have eyes thing. He's hot. He's also your type."

"Old and rich. Wow. Thanks for making me sound like a hooker. I appreciate it. Really."

"You know I didn't mean it like that. You like it when you have someone like you. Lonely. Secretive. Won't make you talk about your past."

"Yeah, that's what you're for."

"Sorry, but I'm not enough. You, Cristina, are fifty shades of fucked up." Charlie winced when he used her fake name, but he didn't notice.

"I told you not to use my full name."

"Also, I can't give you a screaming orgasm."

"Well, I'm sure you could."

"I'm gay, remember?"

"That doesn't mean you lack the ability."

"Come on Charlie. Just come back with me for Christmas break. You're going to mope around campus otherwise. If you don't like him I swear I won't push it."

"Yes, you will." Charlie grumbled, rolling off her bed anyway. "Where's my suitcase?"

Letting out a very girly squeal, her best friend hugged her.

"That's great, Charlie. Just hold and... Got it. Now - oh, that's great. With your skirts pooling around you like that? Perfect. Gorgeous. Very damsel in distress."

Nora clicked away as Charlie fell to her knees dramatically, letting her translucent white skirts flow around her. Modeling might not be the best job, but it paid enough to cover what little of her tuition wasn't covered by her scholarship, as well as the rent for the apartment she shared with Connor. They also let her keep the clothes, which was a definite plus. Although, she wasn't sure where she would wear today's outfit. A tight black skirt under a black leather corset and a long skirt made of layers of floaty white gauze paired with high black boots, it was vaguely princess like and completely over the top.

Other than Connor, Nora was probably the closest thing to a friend that Charlie had. She was her both agent and photographer, since she claimed that she knew how to get the best pictures of Charlie.

"Okay - what's wrong?"

"What?" Charlie looked up at her. "Nothing, I'm fine"

"Really? I finished ten minutes ago and you're still sitting on the floor."

Looking up, Charlie saw that all the camera equipment was packed up. She got to her feet, wincing at the stiffness in her legs. "Sorry. Lost in thought."

"Obviously. Care to tell?"

"Connor's trying to set me up."

"Doesn't he do that every other week?"

"With his dad."

Instead of being shocked, like Charlie expected, Nora tilted her head and looked at her. "You and Monroe? Yeah, I can see it."

"Wait, you know him?"

Nora nodded, bending down to pick up her bag. "We went to high school together. I dated his best friend for a while."

"Really?" Charlie paused, then, "Is he hot? Connor said he was hot."

Nora laughed. "He's gorgeous. And he knows it. You'll have to tell me what happens between you two. Merry Christmas!" she called as she walked out the door.

"How are you?"

Broken, sad, lonely, hurt, upset, alone, depressed, suicidal, angry, hateful, breaking down, screaming, dead, empty, nothing, crying, shouting, giving up, hiding, wearing a mask, horrible, down, hollow, worthless, misunderstood, incapable, distressed, lost pathetic, ashamed, bitter, fake, uneasy, tense, dominated, pessimistic, distrustful, tearful, crushed, offended, aching, wronged, shaky, timid, wary, victimized, tortured, pained, lifeless, cold, dull, nervous, scared, suspicious, alienated, numb, stressed, bruised, jaded, gone.

Like always, all of these answers flashed through her mind, and like always she just said, "I'm fine. What about you?"

"I'm good. But you know that. Come on Charlie, how are you really?"

"I'm okay, Danny. Don't worry. I'm going home with Connor over winter break, and I'm fairly certain that I passed all my finals. They don't know that you know where I am?"

"No. All that's great Charlie, really."

"And they don't - they haven't -"

"They haven't hurt me Charlie." Like they hurt you. They both thought it, but neither said it out loud.

"They... Mom and dad... Maybe they changed. Maybe...you could come back?" Danny suggested timidly.

"No!" It came out harsher than she meant. Softening her voice, she added, "I can't go back there. Not now. Maybe not ever."

"I get it. I do. I just miss you."

"I know kid. I miss you too."

The front door opened and Connor yelled down the hall. "Food!"

"Listen, I've got to go. I love you."

"Love you too."

Hanging up, she walked into the kitchen. Connor tossed a carton of Chinese food at her. "Hurry up and eat. We leave in half an hour."

She grinned at him. "Not giving me a chance to back out?"

"Of course not."


	2. Chapter 2

It was official. Charlie hated cars. It was a five hour drive to Connor's dads place, and she spent four of them in utter misery. It seemed like the winding roads were especially designed to make her carsick. On the fifth hour, after she finally convinced Connor to stop at a gas station so she could get nausea medicine, she managed to drift off - only to be poked awake five minutes later because they were there.

Groggily, Charlie hauled her suitcase and guitar out of the trunk and followed Connor to the house in front of them.

It was a nice house, she had to admit. Big and white, the inside was decorated in a pleasant but impersonal way, all matchy-matchy colors that screamed, "an interior designer was hired here".

"Knock knock," Connor singsonged. "Dad? You here?"

A slightly deeper male voice replied, "In the kitchen."

"So, you haven't seen me in months, and you can't even be bothered to come to the next room to greet me? I feel loved," Connor drawled sarcastically.

As they walked into the kitchen, the other man rolled his eyes. And, okay, Connor and Nora had a point. Sebastian Monroe was stunning. With perfectly messy dark blonde curls and striking turquoise blue eyes, paired with tan skin and lean muscles, he was completely daydream inducing. Low slung, dark wash jeans hung of his hips, and he wore a black button up with the sleeves rolled up and the top buttons undone.

Looking at her, his mildly amused expression replaced with one of pure shock. "Charlie?"

Panic flooded Charlie's mind, accompanied by one thought;

He knows me.

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Bass POV

Bass was putting pizza in the oven and quietly freaking out about Connor staying with him for Christmas when he heard the door open and Connor call, "Knock knock. Dad? You here?"

"In the kitchen," he answered.

Connor strolled in. "So, you haven't seen me in months, and you can't even be bothered to come into the next room to greet me? I feel loved."

Yep, that's my kid. Rolling his eyes he turned around and almost fainted. The most gorgeous woman he'd ever seen stood awkwardly behind Connor. Long, honey blonde curls clung to golden skin, and strangely familiar pale blue eyes stared right back at him. An emerald green crop top (In December. Only in California.) and tight designer jeans molded to her body like a second skin. She was tiny, really, barely 5'5", but she had a presence - and a pair of high heeled black boots - that made her seem taller.

But Connor didn't say... unless "Charlie" was a girl. This girl. "Charlie?"

She didn't answer, just looked at him with a sort of controlled panic. Odd. Luckily, Connor answered for her.

"Dad, allow me to introduce you to Cristina Joy Mathis. She goes by Charlie."

Okay. Charlie's a girl. "It's nice to finally meet you, Christina."

She looked him in the eye. "A pleasure, Sebastian. I've heard stories about you."

"Surely they're not all bad?"

Charlie smiled. "Wouldn't bet on it. Nora has some interesting tales." In all honesty, Nora hadn't said much, but something in the older women's voice made her think that she wasn't too off base.

True to her suspicions, Monroe winced. "Fuck. Nora Clayton? Ignore anything she tells you. It's all lies."

Charlie laughed, a real laugh, something that didn't happen very often. Connor, looking like a little kid on Christmas, grabbed her arm. "We're going to go unpack see you in a little bit bye," he blurted all in one breath, before dragging Charlie out of the room.

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"You liked him. Oh my god, you two are totally crushing on one another. This is great. I should start a matchmaking service. I'm awesome. You're welcome."

Charlie watched in bemusement as Connor sprawled happily across his bed. "Are you a thirteen year old girl trapped in a twenty four year olds body?" she queried. He threw a pillow at her.

By now Charlie had dismissed the irrational fear that Monroe knew her, and Bass had forgotten how familiar her eyes looked.

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Later that night they went out to a bar owned by Bass's friend Jeremy. The four - including Jeremy - hung out for a couple hours, catching up and getting to know each other.

"Go easy on that," Jeremy warned as Charlie finished her fourth drink. "It's strong."

Connor and Charlie looked at each other. "Don't worry," Connor drawled, "she can handle it."

Charlie grinned and toasted them. "Fight like a Mathis, fuck like a Mathis, drink like a Mathis."

Not noticing the looks the two older men were giving her, she turned to Connor, "Come on, I love this song," and dragged him onto the dance floor.

"Did you...?" Bass trailed off, eyes fixed on Charlie.

"Notice how hot she was?" Jeremy finished obliviously. "Duh."

Turning to him, Bass raised an eyebrow. "Girl in her twenties, goes by Charlie, knows the Matheson code."

Jeremy stared at him. "You think she's... her? No. No way. She works with Nora, right? Probably she just told her when she saw the way she drinks."

Bass didn't look convinced. "Take Rachel, rewind twenty five years, add a tan and darker, longer hair, and you have her."

"She's too old. Connor's known her for, what? Four years? She's a senior at UCLA, at least twenty four."

"Could be lying."

"You really want to get Mile's hopes up over a similar name, mutual friend and vague resemblance to Rachel?" They both knew that Miles always got depressed after a false Charlie sighting.

"No," Bass said finally. "I just wish he could find her, and I guess I'm just seeing things."

**AN: So? Did you like chapter two? Did you like Jeremy? And Bass? And the little bit of Charloe? Do you like Connor? He's my favorite character to write. Everyone should have a stereotypical gay friend. They're so much fun. Hope you enjoyed, review please! Next chapter I'm thinking will be mostly flashbacks, but we'll see. I might put them in later.**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: This chapters all flashbacks. It explains some of Charlie's history, although they're all from Bass's POV. (Warning; MAJOR Rachel bashing. She's very evil stepmother.)**

Fifteen years ago. Charlie is five. Bass is thirty.

"So, what's your kid even like?" Bass wondered aloud.

Next to him, Miles sighed. "She's wonderful. A little blonde angel - she'll be a heartbreaker in a few years - and beyond sweet, and a Matheson all the way through. Stubborn and argumentive and doesn't take shit from anyone."

Amused, Bass glanced at him, "You realize she's only five, right? All five year olds are like that."

"Shut up."

"Seriously, then, what's the problem? You're freaking out."

"No, I'm not."

"Miles, if you grip the steering wheel any tighter, it's going to fall off."

Miles sighed. "It's Rachel."

"And I don't care anymore."

"Bass..."

"Seriously Miles, I do not dislike that woman. I fucking hate the bitch. With her holier than thou attitude and extreme self-righteousness personality complex, what in gods name did you ever see in -"

"She abuses Charlie."

Bass felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. "That... what? Are... you sure?"

"Not physically. Just... she never pays attention to her. Neglect is abuse, right? Charlie feeds herself, and takes care of herself and walks herself to and from school, and puts herself to bed. And when Rachel does pay attention to her, it's to tell her she's not good enough or she's doing whatever it is wrong and she will never amount to anything."

"That's..." Bass was still having trouble forming full sentences. "What about Ben?"

Mile's jaw clenched. "He's too wrapped up in his work. I try to mention it to him, and he says Charlie's just 'a very independent kid.'"

"Jesus," Bass ran a hand through his hair. "Are you going to ask for custody?"

Miles nodded. "I'm going to talk to Rachel about it tonight. I'm hoping she won't fight me."

Bass laughed humorlessly. "That'll happen."

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Miles and Bass pulled into the driveway and observed the house before them. It was nice. Two stories, pastel yellow with white trim and shutters. A white wrap around porch dominated the front and right side, complete with a porch swing and little pink tricycle. Immaculate flower beds were placed artistically in the perfectly trimmed emerald green grass. They were only missing the white picket fence.

A large oak tree grew near the side of the lawn, and a swing hung from one of the branches. On this swing a little girl sat, dejectedly poking the ground with a stick. When Miles saw her, his face lit up.

"Charlie!"

The girl spun around and her entire demeanor changed. With a shriek of, "Daddy!" she launched herself into Miles arms. They clung to each other, then Charlie looked at Bass. Regarding him seriously, she informed him, "This is my weekend with Daddy. You can have him back next week."

Grinning, Miles told her,"Charlie, this is my friend Sebastian. You have to share me this weekend. Bass, say hello. "

"Hello Charlotte. It's nice to finally meet you."

Without missing a beat, Charlie replied, "Hello Bastian. It's nice to meet you too."

"Just call me Bass, Charlotte."

"Just call me Charlie, Bastian."

Without waiting for a reply, she turned to Miles. "Daddy, will you take me and Bastian to the zoo?"

Miles grinned. "Go get your coat."

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The day had gone downhill from the moment them got back to the house. Rachel had been there waiting for them. Turning to Charlie with cold eyes, she commanded, "Go get changed for dinner."

With a hurried, "Yes mother," Charlie disappeared up the stairs.

Rachel then turned to him. "Sebastian."

"Rachel. I'd say it's nice to see you, but I'm not a very good liar."

Narrowing her eyes, she swept out without another word.

Dinner was a subdued affair. Charlie - dressed in an uncomfortable looking pink dress and shiny black shoes - picked at her dinner as Miles and Rachel glared at one another and Bass made stilted small talk with Ben. After about half an hour of this, Charlie murmured, "May I please be excused?"

At Rachel's stiff nod, Charlie grabbed her little brothers hand and ran out of the room.

But the trouble didn't really start until much later, when Miles asked Rachel about custody. And the obligatory screaming match began.

Bass tired of it within five minutes, and wandered off upstairs. When he got to the top of the stairs, however, he stopped. Charlie sat on the landing, watching her parents scream at one another.

"Hey, Charlotte," he said wearily, "what you doing?"

"Listening," was all she said in reply.

"Look, kid," Bass started, feeling bad for her, "your parents -"

"My parents hate each other," Charlie interrupted. "Just cause I'm little doesn't mean I don't understand things, Bastian. Daddy wants me to come live with him. Mother doesn't."

"Well, what do you want?"

She was quiet for a long time, then whispered, "I want someone to love me. That's all."

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Ten years ago. Charlie is ten. Bass is thirty five.

Miles didn't show. They were supposed to go out drinking with Jeremy, have fun. They didn't see Miles much anymore, after they moved to the west coast to open a new bar, and Miles had stayed in Chicago with the old venue. But it was ten thirty, and The Republic, although packed, didn't hold Miles Matheson.

Grumbling to himself, Bass trudged over to Miles hotel and knocked on the door. When there was no answer, he pulled out the key card Miles had given him because he always lost his.

Stepping into the room, the first thing he noticed was Miles, sitting on the couch. The next thing was that his brother did not look good. A phone in one hand, a bottle of whiskey in the other, he didn't even look up when Bass came in.

"Miles? What happened?" When Miles didn't answer, he asked again, "Brother? What the hell is wrong?"

"She tried to kill herself," his voice was empty, blank. "and Rachel didn't even tell me. Ben called me. After she got out. She's ten, Bass. What ten year old is so miserable they try to kill themselves?"

Flashing back to that sad little girl at the top of the stairs, he could believe it. He could believe that after five more years of being ignored, and humiliated, and treated like nothing, she would try to end it. Miles didn't understand the total helplessness, the desperation for peace that drove you to and off the edge. Bass did.

After Miles had asked for custody, Rachel had flown into a rage. She made sure that he got no say in what happened to his own daughter, pulling out every excuse in the book, from his job to his PTSD to his "codependency" on Bass. Miles hadn't seen Charlie since she was five, yet he still remembered every first day of school, sent presents every birthday and Christmas (Bass didn't have the heart to tell him Rachel probably never gave them to her), searched online for every school play or singing recital in the hopes that someone had recorded it. He was a good dad. And Charlie would never know. And Bass knew that no words could possibly fix this

So he sat next to Miles in silence.

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Five years ago. Charlie is fifteen. Bass is forty.

Bass was getting ready for work when the phone rang. It was Miles.

"Can you watch the bar in Chicago for a couple days?"

"Chicago? Why, where are you going?"

"Philadelphia."

Bass's heart dropped. Charlie lived in Philly. "What happened?"

"Charlie's gone. She packed her bags and took off last week. Of course, I'm just now hearing about it."

"I'll be on the next flight out."

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A week later, Bass and Miles sat in Miles apartment.

"So, no leads at all?"

Sighing, Miles shook his head. "No. She took her clothes and her passport, used her and Danny's emergency credit card to make a massive withdrawal and vanished. She could be in North Korea by now. Kid covered her tracks."

"That's it?" Bass asked incredulously. "She didn't take anything else?"

Miles shook his head. "Danny mentioned some Star Wars lunch box was missing, but no phone, no iPod, nothing that could be tracked."

"Smart girl." Miles glared at him. "Hey, I'm not saying she should have ran, but at least she did it properly."

Miles just glared some more.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: *AN is pretty much me whining, so feel free to skip* So, in your family, everyone has their designated spots, right? Like, my brother Kevin's the smart one. And Sean's the popular one. And my little sister Kate's the sporty one. And I'm the pretty one. I'm not trying to be vain - I'm just that girl. I try so hard. All the time. And you know what? It's exhausting. But I do it and it's worth it and I love being that girl. I like that no matter how fucked up I feel, no one would ever be able to tell. Not by looking. Then my sister starts throwing on halfway decent clothes and brushing her hair every other week, and people won't stop about who good she looks in that jacket I got her for Christmas. And I'll say something even hinting about how I feel, they go, "It's not a contest." But it is. And I feel like some people get some cheat sheet, telling them what to do, and the rest... don't. And it's not fair.**

**Sorry. Here's the story**.

_Five years ago. Charlie is fifteen. Bass is forty._

Charlie dejectedly poked the ground with a stick, sitting on a swing. Almost the exact same position that she used to wait for her dad in. Drawing patterns in the dirt, she thought about the last time she'd seen him. She was five, and someone had been with him. Who was that? Charlie thought his name started with a B, but who knew? Ha had been nice though. Treated her like a real person and all.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Head snapping up, she turned to face the speaker. He was a handsome dark haired boy, with innocent brown eyes and a not so innocent smirk. He wore tight turquoise jeans and a tight black T-shirt with white and sliver high tops. His blue and black blazer had a fancy crest on the pocket. Everything about him screamed, "I'm here, I'm queer, get the fuck used to it, bitches."

Turning away again, she drawled, "Sorry. I only accept hundred dollar bills."

He shrugged. "That's fair. What's your name? I'm Connor."

Connor sat down beside her and she looked at him. "Did I say you could sit here?"

"Did I say you could be such a bitch?"

Concealing her first genuine smile in a long time, she replied, "That's fair. I'm Ch-Christina." She caught herself just in time. Knowing she would never remember the fake name, she added, "but most people call me Charlie."

"And what's wrong enough to bring you here?"

"Too many people tried to act as my fucking therapist."

Connor raised his hands in defense. "Just wondering. Here, I'll even go first. I'm avoiding my mom. I just got suspended from the fancy private school she sent me to."

"What'd you do?"

"Nothing dramatic. Skipped a few too many classes. You?"

"Graduated from my fancy private school - three years early - and mom neither noticed nor cared."

Connor stared at her. "You win," then he did a double take. "Wait, three years early? You're only sixteen?"

"Fifteen, actually. My birthday's in a few weeks."

"Wow. You could go anywhere. Why here?"

"Looking for my dad. He used to live here, but not anymore, I guess." Charlie wasn't sure why she was telling him everything. Loneliness, maybe.

"Where are you staying?"

She shrugged. "I guess I'll find a hotel."

"Seems to me you're doing a lot of guessing, kid. Jasper isn't exactly a tourist destination. The closest hotel is probably about an hour from here."

Charlie groaned. She did not want to drive god knows how long to rent a hotel she couldn't afford. The money she took from her account would only last so long. Connor seemed to sense her reluctance. "Tell you what. You come and stay at my place tonight. Tomorrow, do what you want."

Charlie eyed him. "Hmm... This whole gay thing isn't an act to lure me in then rape and kill me, is it?"

"No. Although I do have ulterior motives."

"Such as?"

"If you're there mom won't yell at me."

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Connor's house was about half of the size of hers (so the house of someone who wasn't a millionaire) and cosy. Three little green stairs and a wood porch lead up to the house itself, which was painted a cheerful yellow.

As they reached the door, Connor turned to Charlie and asked seriously, "You'll come to my funeral, right?"

She grinned. "Only if there's cake."

"Brat," he muttered as he walked through the door with the demeanor of a man on his way to the firing squad.

"CONNOR SEBASTIAN BENNETT! WHAT the _hell_ were you THINKING?!"

A pretty brunette in her forties flew into the room. "Do you have any IDEA how much trouble you've caused?! I SWEAR I really _will_ kill you one of these days! Do you - oh. Hello," she finished calmly, noticing Charlie.

Slightly off balance by her rapid mood swing, Charlie responded uncertainly, "Hi."

"I'm Emma, Connors mom. And you are?"

"I'm his friend, Charlie. It's nice to meet you, Ms. Bennett."

"Oh, definitely call me Emma. Ms. Bennett sounds beyond old. And makes me feel like a character from Pride &amp; Prejudice."

"Okay, then, it's nice to meet you Emma."

"How long have you been outside? You look freezing. Do you want some hot chocolate?"

"Mom," Connor sighed. "It's May."

Emma looked disappointed. "So... you don't want hot chocolate?"

"I'd like hot chocolate," Charlie said.

"See?" Emma said cheerfully to Connor. "Only you think I'm embarrassing."

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An hour later Charlie was finishing her third cup of hot chocolate when Connor glanced at the clock and said casually, "Hey mom, can Charlie spend the night? It's late."

Emma frowned, "Tonight? It's a school night."

"No, it's not," Charlie corrected with a grin. "Connor's suspended and I already had graduation."

Emma glared at Connor. "Of course. I forgot, my son's a juvenile delinquent."

"I'm eighteen, so technically just a delinquent."

"Fine. Whatever. Do you need to go get anything? A sleepover bag or something?"

Connor looked at Charlie. "I swear she still thinks I'm five."

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Charlie sat in the window seat of Conners guest room, staring out the window. She'd walked back to where her car was parked with all her things in it and driven over. Emma hadn't minded. Of course Emma hadn't minded, because Emma was perfect. She was sweet and funny and warm and happy and loving and everything Rachel never was. She was the type of person who five seconds after meeting one of her sons friends made them hot chocolate and told embarrassing stories about Connor. She was a mom that Charlie thought only existed in fairy tales.

"Hey." Charlie turned to see Emma in the doorway. "Can I come in?"

"Of course," she responded. "Its your house."

Sitting next to Charlie, Emma said, "You're not a graduate passing through to visit her dad, are you? You're a runaway."

Charlie shrugged. "I'm both. How could you tell?"

"My parents wanted me to give up Conner for adoption when I had him. I guess I didn't technically run away, since I was over eighteen, but..."

"The principle's the same?"

Emma gave her a sad smile. "Exactly. Your parents will be worried about you."

Charlie laughed humorlessly. "It'll take them a week to notice I'm gone, then they'll make a fuss to keep up appearances before forgetting my name."

"What'll you do now?"

"Believe it or not, I've been planing this for a while. And by that I mean years. I'm good with computers, so I made fake IDs, birth certificate, put my school records under a false name... Everything I need to go to college, get a job, start a new life."

"What about money?" Emma asked quietly.

"I have enough to last a good while. And I can get a job to pay for what's not covered by my scholarship."

"What school?"

"UCLA, why?"

"Connor's going there too. And I have a friend, Nora Clayton, she's a photographer looking for a model. Preferably a blonde."

Standing up, Emma asked, "Are you sure your parents don't care?"

Looking her straight in the eye, Charlie replied, "Its the only thing I've ever been sure of."

Emma nodded. "Then you can stay here. For as long as you want."

That night, for the first time in a long time, Charlie didn't want to cry.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Present day again! I hope you liked the flashbacks, and the lack of Charloe the last few chapters didn't bother you. Maybe this'll make up for it. Obviously, Charlie did not write the song used here. It's called Young Blood, by Bea Miller. Oh, and I was so happy on reaching forty reviews! Here's a virtual cookie for you all. (^_^)o Make it fifty by next chapter?**

Three days after coming to Connor's fathers house, Charlie had to admit that Connor was right. She was having a lot more here than she would've at campus. Honestly, give her good liquor and good company and she was as happy as she was anywhere. And although the liquor here was excellent, it didn't hold a candle to the company. Connor and Nora weren't lying when they said Bass was hot. They also wouldn't be lying if they said he was smart, funny, and not the least bit interested in her. Well, it didn't seem like he was. He was friendly but not suggestive, complimentary but not flirty, pretty much exactly how you'd expect your best friends dad to treat you. Damn it.

Charlie didn't have trouble with guys. Why would she? She was beautiful, smart, witty, and she knew it. Almost every guy she'd ever met (with the exception of Connor) had shown interest in her. Hell, even Jeremy constantly flirted - though Charlie was pretty sure he was gay. And into Connor.

She didn't even know why she was so upset. It's not like she wanted a relationship. Relationships meant getting close to someone, and that meant they see all your flaws. And she had a lot of flaws. Big daddy problems, bigger mommy problems, trust issues, nightmares, by some paradox both commitment issues and abandonment issues... Fifty shades of fucked up, just like Connor said.

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On the ninth night they were there, Connor sat down at the piano in the living room and told Charlie to go get her guitar. Bass watched with interest. "Are you two in a band?"

"Sort of," Connor answered. "It's just the two of us. Charlie plays guitar and sings and I play piano or keyboard."

"So, you guys do what? Covers of songs?"

"No, Charlie writes them." At Bass's astonished look, he continued, "That's the thing about her. She can do everything, and she can do it really well." Which sent Bass's mind imaging what, exactly, she could do really well.

"That's not true," Charlie interjected, reentering the room. "I can't cook. At all."

"True," Connor conceded. "You ready?"

At Charlie's nod, Connor started playing. Charlie joined him on guitar, and a few moments later singing.

_We were making history_

_Breaking rules and breaking free_

_Questioning the writing on the wall_

_Coming from the underground_

_Laughing as we're falling down_

_Soaking in the glory of it all_

_But in dark times when we close our eyes_

_It's a nightmare, it's a nightmare_

_When the sun don't shine we lose our minds_

_But I swear, we can get there_

Bass gaped. Her voice was like syrup, thick and sweet and husky. It was undebatably perfect - at least in his admitably biased opinion.

_We've got young blood_

_Can't destroy us_

_We make our own luck in this world_

_We've got young blood_

_No one chose us_

_We make our own love in this world_

The song itself was beautiful, full of lost innocence and baseless hope, but Bass couldn't concentrate on the lyrics. He was too busy staring at Charlie. She wore white skinny jeans that clung to her, making her long legs seem even longer and a soft pink T-shirt. It was decidedly girly, but somehow suited her perfectly.

_Someday we could run away_

_See it all before the pictures fade_

_And bottle up the feeling in a jar_

_Pass around to all our friends_

_We can breathe it in and out again_

_Huddled in the backseat of the ca_r

She repeated the chorus, then launched into the bridge.

_And the voices will get loud_

_If you never learn to shut them out_

_If you're lost you can be found_

_If you follow me until you hear the sound_

_Put 'em up, put 'em up now_

_If you know we're never backing down_

_We're never backing down, no_

_We've got young blood_

_Can't destroy us_

_We make our own luck in this world_

_We've got young blood_

_No one chose us_

_We make our own love in this world_

_Yeah, cause we've got young blood_

Snapping himself out of some very inappropriate thoughts about his sons girlfriend just as they were finishing the song, he applauded enthusiastically as they bowed deeply.

"So, do you guys preform places? Because live music is always welcomed in any bar."

"You want us to preform at the Republic?"

"Hell, yes. That was great. And you'll get paid, obviously."

Charlie and Connor looked at one another and grinned. "Well, I'm not going to say no," Charlie decided. "When?"

"How about tomorrow? Fridays are always busy."

"Sounds good," Charlie agreed.

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Later that evening, Bass and Connor were sharing a beer in the kitchen. "Where's Charlie?" Bass wondered.

Connor shrugged. "If you want her to show up, just get out a bottle of whiskey. Or champagne. Or wine. Even vodka."

"Not beer?"

"She refuses to drink it."

Bass looked down on his bottle with mild disgust. "She has good taste." Then he shrugged and took another drink. "How long have you two been together?"

Connor nearly spit out half his beer. After a few minutes of spluttering and coughing, he choked out, "What?"

"What, what?"

"You think we're together? Like, an item?"

"Well," Bass said slowly, "you do live together."

Connor started laughing. "I knew it. I knew there had to be a reason you were ignoring her."

Bass frowned, thoroughly confused by now. "I haven't been ignoring her."

"No, but you've been ignoring the fact that she's been coming on to you since we got here."

"I'm still stuck on the part where you live with a gorgeous woman and you're not seeing her. Are you sure you're my son?"

"Wait for it. It'll come to you."

"You're either crazy, blind, or - oh..."

"And he gets it."

"You could have just said you were gay."

"It was pretty obvious."

"No, it wasn't," Bass protested before his eyes flickered to Connors hot pink skinny jeans. "Well..."

"Charlie's my best friend. She's like a little sister to me," Connor informed him, "We met after she graduated. Her parents were completely shitty to her, so mom kind of took her in."

The story sounded eerily familiar, but Bass pushed the feeling away. After she graduated. Miles' Charlie was only fifteen when she ran away. Different people.

"So... You're not together?"

"Nope, she's all yours. Unless you hurt her, in which case I have a gun, a shovel, and an alibi."

Bass's eyes widened. Single or not, she was still his sons best friend, and twenty five years younger than him. "I never said I was interested," he defended feebly.

Laughter was Connors only response.

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Charlie was lying on the living room floor. She wasn't why she chose there, but didn't see any point in moving. She was also maybe a little drunk.

"Are you drunk?" Bass was leaning over her.

"No," at his skeptical look, she continued, "drunk is the space in between tipsy and wasted. I'm still tipsy."

"And you're lying on the floor... why?"

She shrugged. "Felt like it. It's surprisingly comfy. Come on," she added, patting the floor next to her.

Shaking his head indulgently, he lay down next to her. They lay there in silence for a moment, then Charlie asked, "Bastian, do you think I'm pretty?"

_"It's nice to meet you, Bastian." "Bastian, why can't I feed the lions?" "Promise you and daddy will come back for me really really soon, okay Bastian?"_ Memories of little Charlotte's old name for him. Before he could stop himself, he snapped, "Don't call me that."

Charlie looked shocked and hurt. "Sorry I asked," she snapped back, starting to sit up.

"Christina," he caught her arm and made her look at him, "I'm sorry. It's... I knew a little girl once, and she called me that."

That wasn't even sort of an explanation, but surprisingly Charlie softened. "Was it one of your sisters?"

"What?" he asked in shock, "How...?"

"Connor told me... about the car crash. Should he not have? I didn't... I mean, my parents suck, but I've got a baby brother and I can't even imagine... Jesus, I'm such a fucking retard, I can't believe I even brought it up -"

"No," he cut her off, "No, it's fine, I just didn't expect you to know. It was actually my best friends daughter. She went missing. I only meet her once, but she honestly reminded me of you."

"How?"

"A little blonde angel, stubborn, didn't take any shit from anyone... and very, very pretty."

Charlie grinned at him, "So, I am pretty?"

He rolled his eyes. "You're gorgeous and you know it."

She pouted, "Then why don't you like me?"

"I do like you."

"No, I mean like like me. Am I too young?"

Jesus. She was killing him here. "Normally, I'd say no, but considering you just asked me if I "like liked" you, I have to question if you're older than twelve," he deflected.

Charlie lifted herself on to her elbows in order to glare down at him. "I'm serious, Monroe."

"Look, you're my sons best friend -"

"Con's been trying to set us up since before we got here," Charlie interrupted bluntly.

"Really?" Bass asked in surprise. His son had said he didn't have a problem with them, but that was different than actively supporting it."

"Yep," Charlie replied, flopping back down next to him. "He's a Charloe shipper for sure."

"What?"

To his surprise and amusement, the girl turned pink and hide her face with her hands. "Nothing. Forget it. Please?"

"Well now I'm even more interested. What does that mean?"

"It just... It just means that he thinks we make a good couple. Charloe - Charlie, Monroe - would be the ship."

"Okay... Why is that embarrassing?"

"It's not, really, it's just... a very fangirl thing to say. I blame Connor and Buffy the Vampire Slayer."

Bass still didn't get it, but let go. He'd torture her in the morning. As he was walking out of the room, he paused in the doorway and added, "Oh, and Charlie? Just so we're clear - you're not too young."

**AN: Shitty place to stop, but I'm out of inspiration. Charloe kiss next chapter! Do you guys want smut? I could try... Probably fail, but try. I meant to post this yesterday, but my mom's commandeering my phone till I get my grades up. **


	6. Chapter 6

AN: Yikes! I'm a terrible person - it's been sooo long since I updated. Here I am though! Complete with kisses, as promised. No smut - I don't think I'm going to put any in this fic. I'm really sorry this took so long. Appearantly, my writing is a form of "escapism" from my "issues". Whatever.

Floor... not seeming so comfortable anymore. And it looked like Connor agreed with her. Slowly, every muscle protesting, the pair eased themselves into a sitting position. Charlie hit Connor across the back of the head. "Why would you let me fall asleep there, you idiot?"

Connor shot her a death glare. "Don't scream at me."

Charlie cracked a smile at that, "You are so hungover. Go get me coffee."

"Why should I?" he asked petulantly.

"Because I'm sore from sleeping on the floor that I fell asleep on talking to you."

"Ditto. Plus, I'm hungover. So you get me coffee."

"No."

They sat there glaring at each other until Bass walked in. "What -"

"Go get us coffee," they demanded at the same time.

"Why..." deciding not to ask, he went and filled three cups of coffee. "You know," he said, awkwardly juggling them, "I think I'm actually glad I wasn't able to raise you. Were you always so bossy?"

"Yeah," Connor replied. "Well, I'm just going to go away, and be... away. So, if you two want to... oh, I don't know, finish that conversation you were having yesterday - the one I don't know about because I totally wasn't eavesdropping - then... Yeah. Go ahead," he rambled before hurrying out of the room.

Charlie hid her face in her hands. "I hate him."

"Yep."

"You know, he's listening right now."

"Mm-hm."

"Okay."

"Yeah."

"So..."

"So."

Charlie looked at him for a second, then sighed. "I guess we're doing the awkward DTR conversation."

"DTR?"

"Define The Relationship."

"Oh."

"Yep."

"Why is it awkward?"

"Because... it just is."

"I like you, you like me. Why does it have to be awkward?"

Charlie started at him. "Okay, seriously? What happened to the guy who hasn't even noticed my advances for like, weeks?"

Bass shrugged. "He found out you weren't dating his son."

"I - you thought... me and Connor? Oh my god, you just made my year. I can't - I mean he's so... Connor. Like, "Do you even straight?". I mean seriously. So gay." Charlie could barely breathe, she was laughing so hard. Bass glowered at her.

"Shut up," he pouted.

"Sorry," Charlie giggled. "Actually, I'm not. Are you really that oblivious?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Sorry, didn't I say shut up? I meant to."

"Make me," Charlie challenged. Before she even processed what had come out of her mouth, Bass was pulling her towards him, pressing their lips together.

Oh! Not exactly what she had in mind... but better. So much better. Brain short circuiting in three, two, one...

Bass's tongue swiped confidently over her bottom lip and she nearly fainted from the overpowering sensations. Automatically, she opened her mouth, deepening the kiss.

This was new. Charlie was by no definition inexperienced, but this kiss... it was doing things to her. It was just a kiss, but - oh God. It wasn't "just" anything.

Barely breaking away from Bass, she gasped out, "Bedroom. Now."

He looked shocked, "I'm not sure -"

"You don't have to be sure," Charlie interrupted, "You just have to look at me and see how sure I am, and assume I know what I'm talking about."

Bass grinned. "Well, alright, then," he said, taking her hand and leading her out of the room.

Neither of them paid any attention to Connor standing on the other side of the door, silently squealing. As they rounded the corner out of sight, he beamed and happily announced to the empty hallway, "My ship has sailed." Raising his voice so Charlie and Bass could hear him, he called, "You're welcome!"

From out of sight, Charlie yelled, "Go away!"

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Several hours later, Charlie smiled happily from when she lay draped across Bass. "You know, eventually we will have to get out of bed."

Bass held on to her tighter. "Nooo..." he whined.

"Yesss..." she mimicked him. "Me and Connor are singing tonight, remember?"

"I like hearing you sing," Bass said with a goofy grin.

"Good, I - What's this?" she asked, distracted. Her finger lightly traced the M tattoo on his left arm. "It looks familiar."

Bass shrugged. "It stands for Monroe. You probably noticed it sometime over the last few days. Now, what time do you and Connor go on?"

"Mmm... nine."

"Then we've got ages before we have to get up." She squealed as he rolled her under him.

If she'd thought about the tattoo, she might have realized why it looked so familiar. She might have remembered the suitcase under the bed in the guest room, and the Star Wars lunch box in it, and the little velvet jewelry box in that. And then she might have remembered the silver pendent her dad gave her for her fifth birthday, the one that looked just like Bass's tattoo. She might have remembered the nice man who went to the zoo with her and daddy, and she might have remembered his name.

But she didn't think about it.

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At eight thirty, Charlie and Connor went down to the bar to set up. Bass came with.

As they were setting up the sound system, Bass's phone started ringing. "Hello?"

"Hey, brother."

"Miles," Bass said with a grin, "What's up?"

"I just thought I'd check out how things were going with the kid - he's staying with you over winter break, right?"

"Yep. Things are great. Just great. Really, really, really, really great..." Bass trailed off, distracted by Charlie as she bent over, getting her guitar out of the case.

"Who is she?" Miles asked, amused.

"Hm? Wait, what? Who's who?"

"This girl. She must be something. I haven't heard you sound this pathetically lovestruck since Shelly."

"She's... amazing. Brother, I just met her, but... I think she's the one. I really do."

"Details, Bass."

"Her name's Christina, she goes by Charlie," Miles was silent, and Bass knew he was thinking about his own little Charlie, (hopefully) somewhere out there. Hoping to distract him, Bass continued, "She's gorgeous - this tiny blonde bombshell, but I'm fairly certain she could rip us both to shreds and paint her nails at the same time. She's tough as nails, and a literal genius. She's got a scholarship - she's brilliant with computers."

"Scholarship? She's still in college? How old is she?" Miles asked dubiously.

"She may or may not be Connors housemate. So possibly around the same age as him."

"Dude. She's twenty four?"

"About," he muttered defensively. "So? She's no kid."

"Really?" Oh Miles. Must we always be a skeptic?

"Shut up, okay? I like her. A lot. Maybe even love."

"Really?" less skeptical, more surprised this time.

"Really."

There was a pause, then, "Well, she sounds like a hell of a girl. Good thing I'll get to meet her when I come down to visit." Usually Bass went to Chicago to see Miles for Christmas, but since Connor was visiting, he'd agreed to come out to California.

"You'll be here on Sunday, right?"

"Absolutely."

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By ten o'clock, the Republic was busy, filled with chatter and laughter. Up until now, Charlie and Connor had just been background music, covers of songs, nothing spectacular, but now Charlie stepped forward and tapped the mic to get the audiences attention. A few people looked up, but not many. She didn't seem to care. "Hey, everybody. I'm Charlie, and this is Connor. We'd like to thank Bass for letting us play, and Jeremy for convincing us to do it by bribing us with free liquor." There was laughs and scattered applause. "So, here's a little something I wrote. It's called Run."

Why do I breathe with what's beating in my chest?

You think I'd learn better now cause you can't get any rest

Cause I keep trying to find happiness

In everybody else

It had the same haunted quality of the song she and Connor had played for him the other day, a breathy eerieness combined with a throbbing beat that made you want to sway and dance.

And please move that finger that's been pointing to my mistakes

I want no part in the feelings your words make

So let go, let me love you today

And you're so damn difficult

You'd lose a heart in your hand

And I can't believe you made me work for it

No one understands

Why I run as fast as I can

And I can feel everything

I can feel your emptiness

And I don't believe there's a way out of this mess

Unless I can forgive all your sins that I won't learn

I'll never love again

Again

It just about broke his heart, because there was an aching sincerity to the lyrics that reminded Bass of what Connor had said about her parents.

See right through my wounds

See I'm just like you

Watch me stumble, watch me choose

All your lies

All your lies

All your lies

You're so damn difficult

You'd lose a heart in your hand

And I can't believe you made me work for it

No one understands

Why I run as fast as I can

The last few notes of the song were drowned out by cheers and applause.

AN: I hate this chapter. I really do. I have writers block and so I just pushed the entire plot up like two chapters, and it's super short, I feel like the chapter breaks were at really awkward places, and there was zero build up to the Charloe sex. I just don't like it. But hey, no more unresolved sexual tension. And all of you wanting Miles - here he comes! I hope you liked this more than I did.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: So... You know, I vote we just forget that I haven't updated in months and am a horrible person and be happy I'm updating now, what do you think? No? Well, it was worth a shot...**

**Lots of POV hopping and general confusion here. It's the beginning of the end, people! Just remember, it's got to get worse before it gets better.**

If there was a God, he was a bastard with a cruel sense of humor. And apparently screwing up Charlie's life was one of his favorite pastimes. Because it was too much to ask for just one thing to go right. To much to ask to let her have this one little thing.

It was like a roller coaster - slowly, terrifyingly, things started to look up... And just when she got used to it, she plummeted back down. And then it did it again. And again. And again and again and again.

If there was a God, Charlie hated him just as much as he seemed to hate her.

oOo

She was glad of the excuse to move into Bass' room. One of his old friends was visiting, and he needed the guest room. Personally, Charlie would be a little pissed if one of her friends just called her up and demanded a place to stay (you know, if she had friends other than Connor and Nora), but apparently he and Miles had known each other since they were kids.

She ignored it when his name brought up the same tugging suspicion in the back of her mind that she'd felt when she saw Bass' tattoo. It didn't mean anything - Miles was a common enough name.

Sunday morning, Bass left to go pick Miles up from the airport, Charlie and Connor staying behind for some Christmas eve best friend time. Well, in theory anyway. In reality, when Charlie woke up Connor was lying on the ground with his feet up on the couch, texting someone. Two hours later, he was still texting back and forth, although he had moved to sprawl across the armchair.

"Well, somebody's smitten," Charlie teased.

He gave an _oh you hypocrite_ look. "Yeah, you."

That got her shut up pretty quickly. She wasn't _smitten_. She was just having a winter fling with an older guy. It's not like it was actually going anywhere. Even if she wouldn't have minded if it did, she was too... damaged. Bass would want someone who could settle down, make him happy, not a fucked up flight risk half his age.

_No_, Charlie decided, definitely not smitten. _Soon school will start again and it'll be over. She ignored the pang of sadness she felt at that thought. It's just because I've been having fun here._

_That's all._

oOo

Miles Matheson was paranoid, there was no doubt about that. However, his paranoia was either a very bad thing or a very good thing, and that all rather depended on who you asked.

Ask him, and it was a good thing. So, naturally, he was suspicious of this Christina (it was easier to think of her by that than Charlie) character who had invaded his best friends life. It was only natural - she was twenty four! For all intents and purposes, a child! And although you wouldn't be able to tell by looking at him, co-owning a successful chain of bars had made Bass fairly well off.

Okay, so she didn't exactly fit the stereotype of a gold digger - Connor's roommate, Nora's friend, genius computer geek - but Bass _had_ mentioned she was on scholarship.

So Miles planned on meeting this girl, putting the fear of God in her, and if that scared her off... Well, then she didn't really deserve his brother, now did she?

oOo

Bass was... concerned, to put it mildly, about Miles' reaction to Charlie. Not because he didn't think he'd like her, oh no. There was no chance of that happening. A beautiful girl who could drink him under the table and still be coherent enough to make good company? Yeah, there was no doubt they'd get along famously.

It was just, well, Charlie really could be little Charlotte if she were a few years younger. Obviously, she wasn't, because Connor had definitely told him they'd met when he was eighteen, right after she'd graduated. And that was almost five years ago, so she was at least twenty three. But her blue eyes were almost the same color as Rachel's, and her waves were the dark gold you could get if you combined Miles' brown and Rachel's pale blonde. Not to mention the similarities between Charlotte Matheson and Christina Mathews, plus the shared nickname...

The truth was, though Miles was technically owned the Republic chain just as much as Bass, for the past five years he'd spent most of his time traveling the world, looking all over for his daughter, chasing down insubstantial lead after nonexistent lead. He had a habit of latching onto the barest piece of evidence and obsessing over it until it was finally - unenviablely - disproved, and he was left heartbroken. Again

And he would be heartbroken, because Charlie wasn't Charlotte.

There was just no way.

oOo

Charlie hadn't meant to find the necklace. Really, she hadn't. She was just looking for a book Bass mentioned he had. It was the next in a series she was reading, and Connor was busy texting his mystery boy, so she thought she'd look around for it.

Then she'd opened the bedside table drawer.

It was just there, a little green box with a white bow, and her name was on the tag. And she panicked, because she hadn't gotten him anything, and were they even at a gift giving stage, and oh God, it looked like a jewelry box and you only gave jewelry to someone you were in an actual, proper, real relationship with. A fling did not qualify as an actual, proper, real relationship.

So you see, she just had to look to make sure it wasn't jewelry, because that would mean he cared about her, which wouldn't be fair because he was this sweet, funny, smart, genuinely good guy who deserved better than her.

So Charlie undid the ribbon and pulled off the lid before she changed her mind. Then she promptly stopped caring that yes, it was in fact jewelry. A necklace, actually. On the end of a simple chain was a silver pendent shaped just like his tattoo. And all the old, blurry, half-forgotten memories came rushing back in perfect clarity.

_"Does the M stand for Matheson, Daddy?" five year old Charlie asked, admiring the pretty silver necklace her father had placed around her neck in the mirror._

_"And Monroe," he replied with a smile. Charlie frowned in confusion._

_"Like Marilyn Monroe?"_

_Miles laughed. "How do you even know who that is? And no, not like Marilyn Monroe. Like my best friend, Sebastian Monroe. I'll have to introduce you to him sometime - I think you'll like each other a lot."_

_"Uncle Ben said she was an actress. Can we get pizza for dinner?"_

_Miles grinned down at her. "Anything for the birthday girl."_

An overwhelming sense of horror filled Charlie as she stared down at the necklace almost identical to the one hidden away back at her apartment, at the back of her closet, inside a metal lunchbox that she hadn't opened in five years.

_Well, fuck._

**AN: Cliffhanger! I guess. As you can probably tell, the whole happy family Christmas won't be happening for a while. What will Charlie do now? Will Bass figure out her true identity? Will Miles recognize her? Who's Connor's secret crush? Coming soon!**


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